Long Hoody Poems
Long Hoody Poems. Below are the most popular long Hoody by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hoody poems by poem length and keyword.
The irony of men’s life journey.
Man sees first light through the gap between his mother’s legs.
He spend most of his life trying to slip back into a gap.
The baby comes into this world wearing a hoody.
A doctor decides that the hoody must go, snip, snip.
The baby, the boy, the man, the old man’s head exposed
to the elements, except when entering the holy of holy’s.
Over eighty years have passed, time and fate has altered.
Gravity and age has shortened the height of ones stature
and added inches, feet and pounds to man’s girth.
Old age, has shrunk the length of the head of the family.
Old age, and all that that implies, leaves a negative impact.
As man looks down at the head of the family, the family jewels.
All he observes is sagging sacks and the hoody he lost as a baby.
B. J. “A” 2
June 3rd, 2025
They got me IN A Picture fRaMe uP
I was guilty because I was black
Running down the street before it got dark
I had to be home before the street lights on
Before dusk I'm runnin home
A police cruiser drives by
They got me on their computer
They got me IN A Picture fRaMe uP
Their was a robbery and they said that
Suspect looks like me wearin grey hoody
Police siren on
Pulls me over, wow..
Now the story we all look familiar
They got me N A Picture frame
And if I'm the same shade of skin
And if I'm at the wrong place
And all you see is my face
Must be automatic then
They got me IN A Picture fRaMe uP
I am, I am the suspect
I am guilty so arrest me
My innocents belongs to
Someone else of a lighter hue
So what are you gonna do while DWB
you say wha't does that mean it means
Driving(walking) While Being Black
I am, I am the suspect
I am guilty so arrest me
My innocents belongs to
only me?
They got me IN A Picture fRaMe uP
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
1/20/18
Mom’s Tree House Apartment
Step inside, warm feelings greet you…
On the entryway wall, President Kennedy signed a condolence letter
from 1962, addressed to my Grandma, thanking her for Grandpa’s service in WW1.
Below, perched on an old credenza, the Milk Glass Chicken still delights her
grandchildren with a treat hidden in the Baby Chick alongside!
Glancing to the right, Dad’s Rosary collection (much used) hangs majestically,
a reminder of long-gone family members from cloistered communities, Mom
and Dad revered.
In the living room, above the expansive soft couch that always finds a family member
dozing peacefully after a long-journey home, a massive burl wood frame cradles
A fox -hunting lodge scene, with participants positioned around a blazing hearth,
regaling the hunt, while enjoying a pint.
Consuming Dad’s last days, I joined him for countless hours deciphering every person
In the painting, assigning rank and position to each, with intense minor details,
Joyously discovered, as if for the first time! A memory Dad possessed from his youth,
fox-hunting with his Dad.
In her bedroom, along the wall, Dad’s English Saddle, gallantly laden with his favorite
things, settles the atmosphere.
I pick up his favorite red hoody, and still inhale his courage.
I wish I was a Tory,
It would be another story,
So much simpler not to care
Or have to be aware
Of how other folks must strive
To make a crust to stay alive.
I could keep my privileged indifference
Surrounded by a picket fence
I wouldn't have to own the knowledge
(Whilst enjoying Heston's snail porridge)
That paupers are dying on NHS trolleys
I could just enjoy my hard earnt lolly,
Keeping my guilt edged share portfolio
Guilt free and safe offshore
(Like Rees Mogg, Gove and BoJo) so
That my net worth will appreciate
And HMRC won't be able to deviate
The profits accrued from fracking
To subsidise those who are plainly lacking
Any acumen or entrepreneurship
As a Tory I could safely worship
At the altar blessed by Thatcher, Zuckerberg and
Branson,
As I stack up my king's ransom,
A monument to personal wealth,
Built without any heed to the health
Of the welfare scroungers or the planet
A social conscience? They should ban it!
Let's get on and get the bull done,
Disposable wealth is supposed to be fun,
What's the point in being a Tory
If you're hamstrung by one nation rhetoric?
Yoghurt knitting tree huggers make me really
sick,
'It's for the money, not for you'
Is the motto of my Tory crew,
so go hug a hoody if you will,
My snout is staying firmly in the swill!
I saw you walk in with that grin you always wore.
with the hoody that you always gave me so I would be warm.
im cold now, freezing in the love that we always swore
breathless, tangled in what was from before
i feel the walls caving, what happened to the god above?
i feel my mind racing, gosh i feel stuck
they say addiction kills, am i finally dying
because when i look in the mirror, i see a girl lost from crying
you were my addiction, my weakest point
i thought losing you would completely break me
i guess i was right
lay me in the dirt, flowers over me
play something soft, something i used to sing.
because if addiction really kills, it'll happen to me
Thinking ‘bout freedom’ ain’t it funny?
Brown dirt roads and jars of honey, household stalls
Coins and ‘paper money’ days you could find what you needed along of main streets
Thinking Albury-Wodonga the Hume highways sweep
The Murray Basin cattle; wheat and sheep
A telescopic rod, my dad thought real neat,
Stereo speakers on a (black box pye) cool and functional
Streets ice cream we’d buy
Colvan crisps or might be Smiths; they are the
Borderline choices, that hit my miss. I hear
Now that Topher; is around these old parts?
Hitting the ether and telling of some
Rorts’ and of agenda 2030, that real bad plan
Persevering for freedom, trying to
Demo that contrived foreign wall planned’
It’s not that its (real visible) but it’s hard,
And cruel to all. Upon its ramparts crouch
Traitors who denounce; us aware’ as
Dils and fools, and the ways of the free
Living? They are as poison to them all!
So we blast out real messages in any
Damn way that we can call. Check out Hoody & Bosie
The (white rabbit). And more, taking a stand! Max Egan
Jhonny Larter… Prof. Ian Brighthope Neil Patterson and so many
From our own shores, dip into the alternative, give it a go.
Maybe you’ll want more? Think what happened to
Gunbower & Phillip Islands…small farmers (had to go!).
Now check the rear-view mirror…
Before you’re driven off of your own bloody feilds; streets and
Wide roads.’
©Joe Maverick November 2025
Ha ha..I laugh.' For you will find 'you will be outmatched.)
By just the Aussies; mind.' Hoody and Topher Antic and
Rennick, Larter, Bos,i Hobart, Brighthope Nickolic its systemic.' Clair
Woodly and Iyah.' Yes the pressure builds higher.' Also I
Am against you.' In truth you'l become a no-show Max Igan
Another one having a go.' Even the white rabbit is poking fun..' Ian Pilmer is having none.' Johnny Stapleton either none.' of your lying.' Soon
The whole world 'will awaken' and your power will be taken'
You are a cowardly bully.' Big bad and bulky.' Big brother
You are fading.' You spawn of dark pagans, society is
Breaking; now all your instigating.' Evil will be turned back on to you.' This is inevitable, and its so true.'
I’m looking for adored purple poet’s salvation
In the trees in the breeze indigo inspiration
Lost lavender love to cherry crushed infatuation
Red fire of desire burned left sterile vibration
Hear that song it use to mean a whole lot
Till Cupid came and I knew I was got
Tricked and trained like a pony a plot
Insane love game creating writer’s block
Random raspberry smells a lot like your hoody
I washed with my clothes for I’m such a goodie
Doing white wifey things with no ring so dingy
Taught better but not too clever head hard woody
Stupid is as stupid does
Last time I fall for love
Hear me mates, before its too late.'
Get awake..Not woke! It'll send you broke.)
I have cried in anger.' In sadess and rage.'
At the counrys humilliation, and the world its stage
Its time to leave ideaologys that steal great
Aussie values.' Cue labour liberals greens and the teals!
Go and study the 1980s.' Though there were still fools
In charge.' The people were more involved in actions
By and large.' Put away navel gazing. And disengage.'
From the quackery and e u foolery.' And useless tirades'
In all states and territory, can you just say g'day? Embrace
Your true heros.' Listen to what they say.' I think of Hobart
And Patterson, Bosi' Latter and Hoody.' Culleton and
Rennik and Antic; another goody.' Smit; and krystal, iyah, Claire Woodly too.' stand
With them Australia." And get back to ( true blue!)
Are their twenty pilots?? In Australia now.? Un-jabbed
Heros.? Well anyhow.! Give me the lenght of a winfield
Ciggie..? To elbourate on what could be a pretty biggie..Good
Move? Or deal..So to put it..' For my homeland i watched
Streched beyond any limits.! Yet back on track cause we'll
Never quit.' some news for
klause harani; and other w e f
Sh!!ts.) Why not charter some planes? For internal rides
Like good old T A A..! boy' they made some strides'
I'll always remember the red intials so bold.' They are an
Icon to me still' the memory holds.) So mates of Hoody'
What say you.? True blue Aussies!! Is this game for you?
One life on earth, will you choose to fly freedoms message
In those expansive skies? To Make it known you stood to
Loose.? Or gain? a nation back again' I ask! you choose?? I see
Such a group, can turn it round, in just a few marsupial
Bounds ! Be like Houges ' who painted the steels yet
Climbed to the stars.' Raise up a nation to how it should
Deal' with life and any challenge, i implore you! To Rally round
Get some spring in yourselves.' And like red roo's you'll be
Off the ground!!